


Take Me Home

by JFoster



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feels, teen wolf feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:49:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8648818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JFoster/pseuds/JFoster
Summary: You broke up with Isaac to protect him from you. That was a shitty decision.





	1. Take Me Home/Have Mercy on My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Isaac Lahey x Reader (WOC)  
> Word Count: 2k+  
> Warning: Angst, smut, alcohol mention, drugs mention, unprotected sex (WRAP YOUR WILLY BEFORE YOU DILLY)

**Inspiration** : “Take Me Home” ~ Jess Glynne

_“Came to you with a broken faith,_  
_Gave me more than a hand to hold_  
_Caught before I hit the ground_  
_Tell me I’m safe, you’ve got me now_  
_…_  
_Could you take care of a broken soul?_  
_Oh, will you hold me now?  
_ _Oh, will you take me home?”_

**Reader**

           Another night of getting shitfaced and absently fucking some already forgotten person. Another night of pretending my life isn’t spiraling out of control. Another night of pretending I’m not a complete failure while all my friends are out graduating college, getting married, having families and living their dreams. Another night of temporarily drugging my demons and pretending I don’t hear them scream. Another night of struggling to hold my head above the water; it’s another night of failing to pretend my problems away.

Every voice around me is muffled. The party shows no signs of ending soon. People are attached by the face and hip in every corner; I’d see more modesty in a brothel. Navigating the sea of alcoholic debauchery, I manage to find my way to the front porch. The cold air bathes my overheated skin and for one small moment, I can breathe. I lift my thick curly hair from the nape of my neck and close my eyes to savor the fleeting peace. Opening my eyes, I fumble in my jeans pocket for my phone. It’s 2:48am. I can barely focus. With nothing but sheer drunken will, I locate the one name I’m always looking for. _Isaac Lahey_. Sleep is beginning to overtake me; my eyelids have never felt so heavy. Pressing the call button, I bring the phone to my ear. It rings twice before a sleepy voice picks up.

“Hello?” How does one person bring me so much comfort? Even in my drunken stupor, his voice resonates in my soul. Isaac is home.

“I need you,” I whisper. The scent of rain fills the air and the wind blows in warning.

“Where are you?” He’s completely awake now. I can actually hear him rushing out of bed to put on pants. His keys jingle softly in the background. _He’s coming_.

  


[Originally posted by artisticlahey](http://tmblr.co/ZoGpmi2BGWhBo)

 

“Brett’s. There was a party. I don’t want to be here anymore. Please.” My throat constricts and my chest fills with an aching emptiness I might never be able to fill.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” The line goes dead and a sigh of relief escapes my weary body. Sinking onto the porch bench, the party rages loudly in the house behind me. I look up at the moon with sleep laden eyes; so full and beautiful. Lying down, I try to take small comfort in knowing I’ll see him again.

It’s been 3 years since I broke up with him. It was the worst decision I ever made, but I did it for him. It killed me every day. He deserved better than me; the broken girl with no idea how to make her dreams come true. Eventually he started dating again. Allison Argent seemed like the best thing that ever happened to him…until she died. I saw him at the funeral. I’ve only ever seen that look of despair on his face once, the night I stupidly shattered his heart because I was afraid he’d leave me. It was the worst decision I ever made, but I thought I was doing it for him.

  


[Originally posted by tripps42](http://tmblr.co/Z09Jax1BFrGMA)

 

I don’t remember calling him. I don’t remember passing out on that uncomfortable rickety bench. I don’t remember Isaac picking me up, kissing my forehead and tucking me into the front seat of his car. I don’t remember making him pull over and vomiting on the side of the road. I don’t remember him making me drinking my favorite Gatorade to keep me from getting too dehydrated. I don’t remember him carrying me to his shower and helping me wash the night away. I don’t remember him drying me off, dressing me and tucking me into his bed. I don’t remember him whispering “you’re safe now” into my ear as I fell asleep in a bed full of heartbreaking memories. But he does.

 I’ll never forget the haunted yearning look on Isaac’s face when I woke up the next morning. He must have been watching me from the doorway as I slept. His side of the bed was bereft with cold; I was alone last night. I’m not surprised at all. Sitting upright, my hangover bitch-slapped me. I groaned and clutched my head in my hands.

“There’s aspirin on the nightstand.” His voice, normally filled with sunshine and love, was devoid of emotion. I looked up. Gone was that desperate look; he wore his stoic mask beautifully. The ache in my chest hurt more than any hangover ever could. I missed him.

“Isaac? How did I-?”

 “You called me last night drunk off your ass. I found you passed out on the bench in front of Brett’s house. Do you know how foolish that was!? What if something had happened to you? What the fuck were you thinking!?” His anger was majestic. The way his cheeks flushed with red made the blue of his eyes stand out strikingly. If I squinted, I could almost see steam coming out of his ears. I didn’t even care that he was yelling at me just as long as he kept talking to me. I missed him. I winced as his voice gained another octave. He noticed. Looking at me sheepishly, he sat on the farthest corner of the bed from me. That haunted look was back. Another knife sliced my chest as the weight of breaking his heart settled over me. There seemed to be no mercy from the consequences of my actions.

“I’m sorry.” The simple fact that he felt he had to apologize to me spoke volumes. I’ve never met anyone with a greater capacity for love.

“Please don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re right; it was foolish of me to get wasted like that. Thank you for coming to get me.” Something shifted in Isaac. His mask of stoicism slid back into place and he stood up. Turning his back to me, he headed towards the master bathroom.

“I have to get ready for work. You can stay here if you wish; your clothes are on top of the dryer.” He closed the door behind him and I hugged my knees to my chest.

Gathering my strength, I pulled the comforter from my body. Looking down I was surprised to find he’d dressed me in my favorite dark blue shirt of his. I couldn’t believe he kept it. The cotton fabric felt so soft against my body; a thousand tender kisses and feather-light touches caressed my russet brown skin. The sound of the water running graced my ears and I headed towards the bathroom. Not stopping to consider the consequences or the high possibility of his rejection, I walked in.

Isaac didn’t notice I was there until I’d stripped, stepped into the shower and wrapped my arms around his waist. For a fleeting moment he allowed himself to relax into me. For a fleeting moment, we were us again. I missed him. Detangling himself from my grip, he turned around to face me. Tension hung thickly in the air as neither of us said anything. Water gently poured down this face; he was beautiful. His gaze swept my curvy body and he sighed heavily. Before I had the chance to react, his lips were pressed firmly against mine and his hands were tangled in my hair. Heaven: that was the only way to describe how it felt to kiss him again. He was still my home. I bit his bottom lip and he moaned into my mouth. Moving his hands from my hair to the back of my legs, he picked me up and locked my ankles behind his back. Only Isaac could make my body burn this way. I gasped as he slid himself into me, filling me perfectly. His lips moved to my neck where he sank his teeth into my skin. God, he felt so good. He pinned me against the shower wall and we rocked into each other. The hot water only fueled our anguished desire. With every thrust, kiss, bite, and moan we poured ourselves into each other. Sex with Isaac was always intense but this was something else entirely.  It was like everything we couldn’t say had somehow been unleashed. Every sorrow, wish, hope and love filled us both. He pulled away and met my gaze.

“I love you.”

I wasn’t sure who said it but in this moment it didn’t matter. We both felt it. I clutched him tightly as a furious orgasm tore through my body. His thrusts lost their rhythm as he emptied himself into me. We were connected by something more powerful than either of us could understand. This was more than lust, more than love. With one last kiss, he pulled himself out of me. The empty feeling made me ache to have back immediately. He handed me the bottle of soap and turned away. We showered in silence. The weight of our broken hearts weighed heavily in the air.

He didn’t look at me as we dried off and dressed. He actually went out of his way to avoid my gaze. I don’t know what hurt more: him ignoring me or knowing that I deserved it. Isaac tossed me another one on his tee shirts, grabbed his camera bag and headed for the door. He turned back and paused momentarily.

“I’ll be home at 7pm. Your key is still on the hook by the front door.” Without another word, he hoisted has bag onto his shoulder and left. The slam of the front door reverberated through the apartment and I was alone again. I crawled back into his bed, my hangover a distant memory.

**Isaac**

“What do you mean she’s at your apartment right now?” asked a very confused Stiles Stilinski.

Isaac was currently sitting at a bar with two of his closest friends, trying to figure out what exactly do with the fact that you were back in his life. He was suddenly glad he didn’t tell them he fucked you in his shower.

“Okay, what is the point of him?” he asked. He rolled his eyes at the annoying Stilinski and took another swig from his beer.

“He makes a good point, Isaac…why is she in your apartment?” Scott questioned. The bar they were sitting at suddenly felt stifling. Feeling claustrophobic, he downed the last of his beer and sighed heavily. He’d always hated alcohol but, in moments like these, he could understand why his father drank himself half to death.

“I couldn’t bear to see her leave just yet,” he whispered. Isaac was at war with himself. He _shouldn’t_ have kissed you. He was so damn glad he did. Kissing you again awakened a part of his soul he fought so hard to bury. It might shatter him if you left again… _when_ you left again. He shouldn’t have had sex with you in his shower. He was so damn glad he did. Getting to lose himself in you even just for a little while soothed his aching heart that always seemed to miss you. It might shatter him if you left again… _when_ you left again. He shouldn’t have let you stay. He was so damn glad he did. Seeing your face in his apartment again made it feel so much more like a home. The realization that you thought he turn his back on you after screwing you in the shower this morning sucker punched him. He shouldn’t have left you alone.

Even though last night was the first time he’d seen you in a long time, he knew you were struggling. When you lost your mother last year, he went to the funeral. You were the only one standing there as they lowered her into the ground. You didn’t cry. He studied you from a distance as you stood in silence while watching her grave be filled. When it was done you walked away, downing a flask. He meant to go up to you then, but he wasn’t sure you’d want to see him. He was the only one who knew how abusive your mother had been to you. She was an angry, bitter woman who lashed out at everyone. When her illness finally took her, you were the only one who seemed to care. He loved you for it.

As the months went by, it became harder and harder to pick up the phone and dial your number. He’d heard from your mutual friends that you’d taken to partying heavily. He was terrified of receiving that phone call that said you shared you mother’s fate. After Allison, he couldn’t bear to lose another person he loved. When you called last night, he was so relieved to hear your voice. You were his home. He shouldn’t have left you alone.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Scott.

“I wish I knew.” Scott and Stiles nodded in understanding. They knew you were more than just an ex for Isaac. You were, and still are, the love of his life. Isaac flagged down the bartender to pay his tab. He had to face you sometime.

“Alright gentlemen, I should be getting back. Thanks for this.”

“Anytime, buddy. You know that.” Scott pulled him in for a hug and Stiles patted his shoulder in encouragement. Grabbing his things, he headed to his car.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t follow him? They could kill each other,” Stiles told Scott.

“They’ll be fine. They’re soulmates.”


	2. (Don't) Forget My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is about honesty and forgiveness.

**Pairing** : Isaac Lahey x Reader, Bonus Scott and Stiles.  
 **Word Count** : 2k+  
 **Warning** : Angst, fluff, there’s a lot of talking in this one. These guys had a lot to say apparently and not all of very nice so there’s some harsh language too. Smut, unprotected sex (WRAP YOUR DING BEFORE YOU DONG)

 

**Inspiration** : “Set Adrift on Memory Bliss” ~ Backstreet Boys

_“Destiny is everything_

_Reality’s replaced you with_

_The biggest empty void I’ve ever had in life_

_Bet you say that I don’t care_

_I bet you say that I don’t even think of you_

_But God knows how wrong you are”_

**Reader**

The sound of a key turning in the lock woke me from a fitful sleep. The clock on the nightstand blared 7:00pm in mocking red numbers. Isaac’s home. I never intend on staying, but watching him turn his back on me hurt more than I cared to admit. Knowing he was justified in his actions it made everything worse. Isaac walked into the bedroom and set his stuff down. I pretended to still be asleep; facing him right now was too much to cope with. He sat down on the edge of the mattress.

He whispered my name softly; his voice cracked with anxiety. It seemed as if he were afraid I was some twisted illusion his mind cooked up. I gave no response. He tentatively reached out to touch my shoulder; feeling my warmth underneath his hand, he breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled away and I felt the bed shift under his weight. Under the impression that I was fast asleep, Isaac began to argue with himself.

“I shouldn’t have let you stay last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you. Why did I kiss you? I shouldn’t have slept with you in the shower. I shouldn’t want to lie next to you and hold you in my arms. I shouldn’t still want you. Why do I still want you?” Isaac sighed deeply again and stood up from the bed. The sound of retreating footsteps told me that I was alone again. Hearing his voice full of torment was apt retribution. I had no one to blame but myself…and I did. I broke his heart; I’d carry the shame of that choice for the rest of my existence. 

The sound of pots and pans clanging softly shook me from my self-deprecating train of thought. Curiosity took root and I rose from my feigned slumber. Sitting up on with my knees hugged to my chest, I watched as he angrily busied himself with cooking. He was so beautiful this way; controlled ire yet wild fury. I knew his wounds ran deep…they were a profound echo of my own.

The smell of my favourite dish being prepared filled my nose, my heart ached. I couldn’t believe he still remembered after all these years. I could still hear him arguing with himself. The sound of shrimp hissing in a frying pan floated into the bedroom. I was so torn between wanting to go to him and knowing I should probably leave him be. Who was I to just burst into his life like this? Who was I to keep hurting him this way? Why can’t I stop hurting him? Why can’t I stop hurting?

I decided to get out of bed.

 

**Isaac**

Isaac was so engrossed in making you dinner that he didn’t notice you’d entered the kitchen. The feeling of your arms sliding around his waist made his heart soar. Memories of your relationship hit him all at once. For just a split second, he felt whole again. For just a split second, he was complete. Then he remembered you were the one who left him in the first place. Pulling out of your embrace, he whirled around to face you.

“You can’t keep doing that,” he scolded, “you don’t get to just come back here like this and expect me to just take you back like nothing happened.” You recoiled as if he’d slapped you; the hurt on your face filled him with regret for snapping.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You don’t get to just say sorry! _You b r o k e my heart_. You left me and you broke my heart! When are you going to get that?” There was that righteous anger again. He was a typhoon and you were a stranded raft: hopeless.

“I broke mine too!” you screamed back.

“Wait... _what_?”

“I broke mine too,” you whispered, “When I left…you weren’t the only one who split into a million pieces. I broke too.”

Isaac was stunned into silence. He’d been so wrapped up in how much you hurt him that he didn’t even consider that you were hurting as well. He was such a fool. He was a goddamn fool.

“I thought I was doing it for you,” you said without meeting his piercing gaze.

“How could y—?”

“I tho-I thought that if I left, you would be better off.”

“What could possibly make you think that?” He laughed incredulously. You snorted at him. Did he really not see?

“C’mon Isaac, look at me. You’re this tall, blue-eyed, broad shouldered Adonis. You’re the kind of guy who can get models at the drop of a hat. You’re not just beautiful; you’ve got this golden soul. Who wouldn’t love you?? Me? I’m the short, ‘curvy’ black girl with wild hair? We all know ‘curvy’ just means fat. You don’t think I didn’t see the stares? You think I didn’t hear the snickers behind my back?

‘What’s he doing with her?’ ‘It must be a pity thing, there’s no way a guy like him could seriously be interested in a girl like that.’ ‘Who does she think she’s fooling?’ You think I didn’t hear _every single insult_ hurled at me?

I left because you deserved someone who had ambition to reach their dreams. I’m _fucked_ up, Isaac! I’m fucked up and I’m hard to love; I’m actually surprised you didn’t get sick of me sooner. I left because I’m not good enough for you. How could _I_ ever be good enough for you? You deserve so much better, so much prettier than me. But…I never stopped loving you. _Never_.”

A heavy pause hung in the air. He was speechless. Gone was the confident, brilliant person he once knew. Here you stood before him, half empty shell and desperately struggling to hold the broken pieces of you together. He felt ashamed for blaming you as long as he did. The longer he stared the more you seemed to shrink into yourself. The anguish in your voice and on your face over the choices you made was punishment enough. It was time he stopped blaming you. It’s time for forgiveness.

“Is that really what you think of yourself?” he asked softly.

“I see myself in the mirror every day, Isaac. I’m not exactly exaggerating.”

Isaac turned off the stove, grabbed you by the hand and led you to the long mirror hanging on the back of his bedroom door.  He couldn’t believe you truly didn’t see the gorgeous person he knew you to be.

Standing behind you, he turned you towards your reflection. “What do you see?”

“We literally just went through this. Don’t make me say it again, please.”

“ _What_ do you see?”

“…Isaac,” you sighed and refused to meet your reflection. He lifted your chin to meet his eyes through the mirror.

“Let me tell you what I see: I see the most amazing girl I’ve ever known in my life. This ‘wild’ hair? It’s one of the best things about you. It’s as carefree and glorious as you are; it refuses to bend to the rules and demands of society. It’s exactly how nature intended you to be. These curves? They’re my favourite part about you. They’re a sign of how much more of you there is to love. No, you aren’t skinny. What you are is magnificent. What you are is sexy as hell.

Your waist is the perfect size for me to wrap my arms around. Your lips are the perfect shape for me to kiss when you’re happy or sad or you won’t stop talking about your current superhero obsession and I have to remind you to breathe. Your hands are the perfect size to hold a paintbrush and make breath-taking masterpieces. You’re the perfect height to hug against me. You’re the only one in the world who knows how much I like being the little spoon. The fact that you’re black makes no difference to me. It just means you get to teach me about this remarkable culture I never understood before I saw it through your eyes.

I swear I used to think you were made to compliment me. You’re perfect and I will never stop loving you.” He hugged you against him tightly. Tears welled up in your eyes. He briefly wondered why it took him this long to finally tell you what you meant to him. Without thinking, Isaac whirled you around and pulled your lips to his.

The kiss was electric. It was as if Thor himself struck the two of you with a force so powerful he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. Your mouth against his made every hair on his body stand on end. Isaac was a scientist who finally found his Eureka; his world came back into focus and he could once again see everything in with vibrancy. He was no longer simply surviving, he was alive.

 

**Reader**

My mind was reeling from his words; my body was aloft with bliss. I didn’t just feel Isaac’s kiss, I felt every strand of the cosmic universe that held us together. His hands fluttered around my body as if he couldn’t believe I was real. I can’t believe this is happening. My blood pounded in my ears. He was here, he loved me.

Much to my dismay, Isaac pulled away from me. I stared at him in a stupor; a brief look a pain flashed across his face and my heart throbbed knowing I was responsible.

“Don’t leave me again,” he implored me, “please…don’t ever leave me again.”

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Lahey.” At my words he pulled me into another soul-searing kiss. This one was filled with the desperation of a broken man. His fingers gripped my hips as if he were afraid I would disappear into the night. I had a manic need to prove I wouldn’t leave him again so I poured myself into his kiss. Clutching his curls in my fingers, I pulled him as close as I could to my body. He nipped at my bottom lip and my veins were scorched with desire. I _needed_ to be closer to him.

Walking backwards, I pulled him down onto the mattress with me. The feeling of his jeans on the bare skin of my thighs was annoying. There were far too many clothes between the two of us. Isaac seemed to feel the same because the next thing I knew there was nothing separating his bare skin from mine. His body felt so perfect against me. Maybe he was right…maybe we were made for each other.

He trailed a fleet of feather light kisses from my lips to my shoulder blades and even further down. I watched him through my lashes and ran a hand through his soft tresses. Feeling my nails gently scratching his scalp he looks up and grins at me wickedly. He flipped me over without warning and pulled me to my knees. My body buzzed with excitement as he crawled between my thighs and pulled my cunt down to his eagerly awaiting mouth. Fuck. Isaac makes a royal banquet of my cunt. Between his skilled mouth and his thick fingers, I’m a whimpering mess. My thighs quiver with every lick and suck; orgasmic bliss threatens to overtake me. Shredding the sheets with my fingernails, I cried out a warning of my impending detonation. The front door bursts open; Stiles and Scott came crashing into Isaac’s apartment.  

“Oh my god!” Stiles shouts. Both he and Scott turn their backs while Isaac and I scrambled to cover ourselves with blankets. It was in this exact moment I discovered I truly hated the fact that the bedroom was visible from the front door.  

“You couldn’t have waited five more minutes, Stilinksi?” I shouted in frustration, sexual and otherwise.

“We heard screaming…we tho—we thought you might be in trouble,” Scott rushed to explain himself. I glared at their backs. If looks could kill, I’d have sent them straight to Hell for this grievance.

“The only people in trouble right now are the two of you.” The bed shakes with Isaac’s silent laughter. I whipped my head around to fix my steely gaze on him. The moment he meets my eyes, he tumbles off the bed in a fit of laughter. The loud thud causes Stiles to peek only to be greeted with a smack to the back of the head as Scott scolds him. Some things never change apparently.

“We’ll give you some time to get dressed,” said Scott. He leads Stiles into living room, far away from any sightlines into the bedroom.

“Isaac!” I hissed. His curly head popped up from the floor and I was met with tear stained rosy cheeks. The smile on his face nearly blinded me.

“It looks like I should go finish up dinner, since it looks like neither one of us gets to finish what we started.” He stands up and tosses me the shirt I was wearing earlier.

“Isaac!” I hissed again. Leaning across the bed, he kisses my temple.

“Welcome home, babe.”

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even are endings? I'm so sorry, I have no idea how to end things. I hope you like this!!


End file.
